


all the ashes in my wake

by Kangoo



Series: LGBT Destiny Month 2019 [25]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Fix-It, Flame swords: are they right for you? experts say yes, LGBT Destiny Month, M/M, Stabbing With Extreme Prejudice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 18:18:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19362073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangoo/pseuds/Kangoo
Summary: theme: swordLet's say we won this time





	all the ashes in my wake

**Author's Note:**

> idea i've had for some time that i'm shamelessly reusing for this prompt hehehe
> 
> title from hozier's arsonist lullaby

Cayde is going to die.

 

For once it's not an exaggeration. There will be no last-minute rescue. No daring escape. No lucky twist of fate pulling his ass out of the fire. He doesn't even have light anymore. His proverbial sleeves are empty: his last card rests in the very same hand that wants him dead.

 

Damn ironic, getting killed by his own signature weapon. His own ace.

 

Still, as he stares down the wrong end of the barrel, he can't help to feel a last desperate flicker of hope. Kind of like a middle finger to the universe. _You can beat me up but you can't beat me down_. 

 

Somewhere up above there's a daredevil Guardian with a knack for miracles who doesn't know when to quit. Pretty sure Razel started making his way down there as soon as Cayde fell past in a blaze of glory and poor decision making. He goes where Cayde goes or, failing that, where the fight is. Both happen to be in the same place currently. So he's kind of hoping Razel will work his magic once more and appear when they last expect him. The knight in pink armor to his damsel-in-distress — the 'got hit by a truck on her way to her gilded tower' version.

 

He doesn't  _hope_ Razel will come. Cayde  _knows_ he will, trusts him to run like hell on the way there too. No, he hopes Razel will reach them in time... and it's getting less likely by the second.

 

Cayde coughs, struggling to get air in. Fuckers can build a robot body but can't make it ventilate by itself? Gotta do everything yourself. His breath rattles in his lungs — Light knows they're more holes than not at the moment — but he ignores it and looks up into the eyes of Uldren Sov.

 

There's something unhinged there, a dark edge to the golden glow. Mean bastard. Exactly the type to stage a prison riot, in hindsight. Cayde should have known better.

 

(It's something he hears and tells himself a lot. One day, if he survives this, he might start to listen.)

 

"Any second now," he says, each word fizzling in his throat with loose electricity from a fucked up wiring in his vocal encoder, "My partner is gonna roll in here and kill every. Last. One of you." Whether he does that before or after Cayde is dead and cold from his own bullet is yet to be determined, but he stubbornly clings to hope. "And you, my man-"

 

Uldren shushes him with that damn infuriating smirk on his face. "This is going to hurt... a lot," he warns, aiming down — the barrel of the gun aimed to Cayde's chest. Even Uldren can't miss a point blank shot on a prone target. "Any last words?"

 

Oh. How nice of him to ask.

 

Cayde sends a last apology to Razel, wherever he is in that Light-forsaken prison. He really didn't expect his  boy friend would have to carry his dead body out of the place when they arrived. But there's no helping it, and he's not about to go without getting the last word.

 

"How's your-" His eyes dart above Uldren's shoulder, the movement so slight it's close to unnoticeable. " _Duck_ ."

 

Uldren stops dead in his tracks, finger on the trigger. It's the smallest pause, just a fraction of a second as he processes the sentence in confusion. 

 

Razel never needed more, though.

 

There's a  noise somewhere between  unsheathing a sword and a fire roaring to life. Uldren doesn't have the time to blink before a blade pierces through his chest, setting the room alight in red and gold.

 

Uldren's finger spasms on the trigger before going lax. The gun slips from his limp hand as he collapses on the sword like a puppet with its strings cut. There wasn't a single drop of blood spilled when the blade went in, or when it's taken out again. The blow was clean, the heat so intense it near instantaneously cauterized the wound.

 

It's a fate too merciful for the guy, but Cayde's fine with it as long as he's still alive to be slightly disappointed by it.

 

The sword whistles through the air, bursts of flames flying from its edge. They crash into the Scorn waiting for their now-dead master and they retreat in haste, hissing promises of vengeance he doesn't quite catch. The door falls close behind them, plunging them in darkness save for the fire of Razel's sword.

 

Already it's dimming, more campfire than righteous inferno. Razel hastily  thrusts it into the ground. The flames go out in a  _woosh_ , leaving behind a sword seemingly made of light that glows a soft golden-white. Warmth flood Cayde's body. He sinks into the ground as all the adrenaline-like static electricity leaves his system. He almost  _died_ .

 

Thank the Traveler for probability-defying Guardians.

 

Razel drops to his knees next to him  and, in that same movement, takes Cayde's face between his hands and kisses him. The position is kind of weird, bent over like he is, but he still lingers, his forehead pressed against Cayde's, staring into his eyes and looking both relieved and distraught.

 

"I was so  _scared_ ," he whispers. "I thought you were dead. That we'd be too late."

 

Cayde closes his eyes, letting the warmth of the Well of Radiance and of Razel's higher than average body heat sooth his weary body. "You weren't. Thanks, buddy."

 

He feels a pang of terrible sadness for Sundance. She must still be where he left her, in pieces— dead for good. There was nothing to be done for her.

 

Razel  seems to read it on his face — how remains a mystery — and says, quietly, "I'm sorry for Sundance."

 

Cayde lifts a hand with a weary groan and manages to get it on top of Razel's head. He pets his hair clumsily, making a static-filled hum in the back of his throat in an effort to be comforting.

 

"You did everything you could," he says. "You saved me. It's more than enough."

 

"I-" Razel stops, abruptly, and straightens up. "You're  _hurt_ ," he says like he forgot.

 

His hands  fly to Cayde,  hover ing over  his chest, his head, wherever there's damage.  Cubix appears above his shoulder and follows the movement, scanning for injuries and beeping worriedly at the amount he founds.

 

It's a little much for Cayde. He doesn't deal well with worry. Or sadness. He'll grieve in his own time, alone, for his very first friend. Right now, though, he drops his hand, too tired to punch Razel in the shoulder the way he meant to, and says, "I think you beat me though. Saving my ass  _ definitely _ counts for five kills. At least."

 

Razel chokes out a laugh. "I already had a dozen on you, you ass."

 

That's when Petra comes running in.

 

She sees Cayde (lying on the floor and looking like scrap metal) Razel (bowed over him, hair falling over his face obscuring his expression) and Uldren (like,  _ so  _ dead) and gasps a distressed, " _ No. _ "

 

Cayde raises his good hand again and waves weakly. "Hey P.V!  So, how do you rate my fall? A for drama? "

 

" No," she says, this time in a groan. "Cayde, you bastard. I thought you were  _ dead _ ."

 

He tilts his head just enough to watch Razel. Softly, almost to himself, he says, "You and me both, P.V."

 

-

 

"Why duck?

 

"What?"

 

"Your last words. You said "how's you duck". Did Uldren have a duck? Did I make a duck an orphan? Is it going to come back to avenge it's father? Do you think Uldren was a good dad?"

 

"How's your-  _oh_ . Yeah that's- not really it. Good last word, though, duck. Fine animal."


End file.
